


Liquid Courage

by TeamHPForever



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Drunken Confessions, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamHPForever/pseuds/TeamHPForever
Summary: Nate wakes up in bed with Ray and little memory as to how they got there.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little late to the SteelAtom party but they seem to have taken over my life so here's my first fic for them. Unbeta-ed because my fiancee/beta reader is asleep and also hasn't yet come over to the dark side.

Sunlight streams out of the screen on the wall of Nate's room. The shot is of a lake, the shores bordered by a pine forest. The sun has just crested the tops of the trees. He lays there for a moment, enjoying the feeling that he's just woken up in a remote cabin on that lake's bank.  
  
Fingers twitch against his bare stomach. They're not his.  
  
Oh. Oh no.  
  
Nate twists in bed, trying to see his companion. Ray. He's possibly naked, definitely shirtless, pressed so close they're almost spooning. Floppy brown hair hangs down over his eyes. He's still asleep. Nate glances down, checking to make sure he at least is wearing pants. He is, gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide the morning wood he's currently sporting.  
  
Nate lays down as quietly as he can, heart thumping in his chest. His mind grasps for the events of the night before. They'd been celebrating the recovery of the Spear of Destiny. There'd been beer and shots and some kind of Time Master concoction. Sara had quickly drunk them all under the table.  
  
None of that explained how he'd ended up in bed with a half-naked Ray Palmer.  
  
None of that helped him with what he was going to do when Ray woke up.  
  
If Nate said that he had never thought about waking up in a bed with Ray, he'd be lying. He's thought about it. A few times. Usually late at night when he was alone in his cabin. In the dark anything seemed like a good idea. There just usually wasn't alcohol involved and he certainly expected to remember how they got there.  
  
Ray makes a dissatisfied grumble and pushes his face into Nate's back.  
  
“Gideon,” Nate hisses as loud as he dares. He needs to turn off the lights, push that sun back beneath the horizon, before it all wakes Ray up. “Gideon!”  
  
_“Yes, Mr. Heywood?”_ Gideon apparently has no concept of secrecy because her voice blasts from the ceiling in its full volume.  
  
Nate peeks over his shoulder as covertly as he can. Ray's face is still pressed into his back, arm hanging lightly around his waist. He doesn't appear to be awake. “Never mind,” he says, not wanting to risk fooling around with the lights.  
  
The lake glitters in the sun as he stares at the screen. Soft waves break through the surface. A bird swoops out of the trees, splashing down into the water and coming up with a fish clasped in its talons. Ray's fingers flex against his skin, thumb starting to draw slow circles.  
  
Nate contemplates whether he could jump out of bed and pretend to have slept on the floor. Maybe he could just leave. Maybe Ray wouldn't remember how he'd ended up in Nate's bed either.  
  
“Nate?”  
  
Too late.  
  
Nate looks back slowly to see Ray blinking up at him. His brown eyes are still a little hazy with sleep. There's a faint bruise on one side of his face from a fight two days prior. Nate feels a weird pang in his stomach that has nothing to do with alcohol. They stare at each other for a few seconds before it occurs to him that he should say something. Anything. “Good morning, Ray.”  
  
“This is your room,” Ray says, taking in the walls and the screen.  
  
“Well done, Sherlock.” Nate's powerfully aware of where Ray's hand is still resting on his stomach, dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. “Do you...do you remember how we got here?”  
  
“We were drinking.” Ray squints at the ceiling. “You flirted with me.”  
  
Nate groans, his mind supplying hazy images of the two of them on the bridge. Empty bottles were scattered across the seats. He had a glass in his hand, something that tasted like spearmint. Ray had looked so beautiful in a tight-fitting black T-shirt and jeans. He remembers reaching over to push Ray's hair out of his eyes, whispering a joke.  
  
Nate had kissed him then, too drunk to stop himself. All he could remember was how badly he wanted to see if Ray also tasted like spearmint. “I kissed you,” he murmurs, half to himself. “You tasted like cinnamon and brandy.”  
  
Ray nods, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “Sara yelled at us to get a room,” he continues. “You drunkenly shouted, 'I'll have you know that we have two!'”  
  
“Is that where the feronan came in?” Nate resists the urge to grab his pillow and attempt to hide underneath it. He vaguely remembers a bottle of lime green liquid that tasted like pepper and had a kick that nearly made his skin turn to steel.  
  
“It was.” Ray's smile is oddly soft. “You grabbed it from Rip and you would have chugged it if Sara hadn't taken it from you. You got a few shots worth and had trouble standing. Then you said that I had to escort you to your room because you weren't sure you were going to be able to find it.”  
  
“I was afraid that I would be lost wandering the ship forever.” Nate fists his hands in the blanket. To be fair, the feronan had given him awful tunnel vision, hallucinations of glowing blue lights, and several duplicates of each of his friends. He vaguely remembers stumbling down the corridors, half-walking, half-clinging to Ray's shoulder. He'd kissed Ray again, right outside the door, desperate and more than a bit sloppy. They'd broken apart and he'd--  
  
“After you kissed me, you offered to blow me.” Ray's cheeks are turning pink. Nate's pretty sure his are on fire.  
  
“Did you—did we--” Ray shakes his head. “Oh thank God. Then how did we...”  
  
“End up in bed together?” Ray smirks. A corner of his mouth twitches. “You asked me to stay.”  
  
Nate rolls over, bringing them face to face. “Why did you say yes?”  
  
“You might have begged.” Ray's grin is teasing. “I planned to stay just long enough for you to fall asleep but...”  
  
“You fell asleep first.” Nate vaguely remembers laying awake for a minute, watching as Ray drifted off. The feronan had given him a strange golden glow, like some kind of earth-bound angel.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Nate waits for Ray to ask him to move, to suggest that they never speak of this again, to tease him and call him “buddy” and suggest he lay off the feronan next time. He's not all prepared for Ray to shift on the bed and bring their lips together.  
  
The kiss tastes like cotton and old cinnamon. Nate brings a hand up to Ray's face, traces his thumb down the line of his jaw. It's slow and lazy. They'd had a kiss much like this last night, Nate on his back already in bed, Ray standing over him. “You're a good friend,” Nate had slurred. Ray dipped down, pressing a kiss on his forehead before finding his way to Nate's lips.  
  
“You're more than just my friend,” Ray had whispered into the dark before climbing over him into bed.  
  
“Oh my God.” Nate breaks out of the kiss, a startled look in his eyes. “You _like_ me?”  
  
“Nate, I don't know how to tell you this,” Ray says, a blush growing on his cheeks, “but we were just kissing. You usually do that with people you like.”  
  
“For how long?”  
  
Ray shrugs. The blanket slips further down his bare chest. “Since I gave you the Nazi serum.”  
  
“Why didn't you tell me?” Nate slides his hand down from Ray's face to his chest, right above his heart. Maybe they could have been doing this all along, without the alcohol and memory lapses.  
  
“You had Amaya.” Ray looks down, fingertips pressing lightly into Nate's side. “I thought you would be content with just being friends.”  
  
Nate thinks about everything he knows about Ray's previous relationships and comes up with very little. He knows about Anna's death being the catalyst for Ray becoming the Atom but that's it. He can't help but wonder if there's more to it than that. “What about now?”  
  
“I like you, Nate.” Ray's smile is easy this time, less guarded.  
  
“I like you too, Ray.” Nate's hand traces down over Ray's abs to find that he's still wearing his boxers. “You know, that offer of a blow job still stands.”  
  
“Does it now?” Ray's eyes darken as Nate leans into another kiss, hand pushing into his boxers. Ray's hard, probably has been as long as he has. He's long, even longer than Nate expected, and he moans into Ray's mouth.  
  
It feels like they've been waiting a lifetime for this moment and Nate isn't willing to wait a second longer. He shoves the blankets away and hurries to straddle Ray's waist. His lips find Ray's one last time before he starts to make his way down his throat and chest, placing wet open-mouthed kisses as he goes. Ray squirms, his muscles flexing beneath Nate's lips.  
  
Nate reaches the jut of his hipbone and grazes his teeth over the skin there. Ray groans, hips bucking against Nate's chest. “Come on, come on,” he hisses.  
  
“Terribly impatient in bed,” Nate murmurs, like he's taking notes. He hooks his fingers in Ray's boxers and tugs.  
  
Nate mouths at the head, holding Ray in place with a hand between his hips. Heat floods his veins at the sight of Ray flushed, hands clenching against the sheets, and he grinds down on the bed, searching for some form of relief. Nate reaches out, grabbing Ray's hand and moving it to twine in his hair. Only then does he slide down on Ray's cock as far as he can take.  
  
“Nate, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Ray whispers, fingers clutching at his hair like he's not sure if he's holding Nate in place or pulling on him. Nate hollows his cheeks, setting a steady rhythm, licking and sucking in turns. Ray's cock bumps against the back of his mouth and he moans around it.  
  
Ray is surprisingly quiet above him, gasping and moaning but not talking. His hips buck against the restraint of Nate's hand, like Ray's begging him to let him fuck his mouth.  
  
Nate braces himself on his elbow, freeing up one hand to wrap around the base of Ray's cock. He's so hard it's starting to hurt, the friction of his hips against the bed more irritating than satisfying. He doubles his efforts, pushing his tongue against a spot that makes Ray shout his name. Ray is watching him, eyes almost black and hazy with lust. Color floods his cheeks. “I'm close,” he warns.  
  
Nate pulls off with a soft pop. “I want you to come.” He takes Ray down again, as deep as he can go, and sucks hard.  
  
“Oh God.” Ray's voice cracks as he comes. Nate backs up just enough to swallow it down, wincing a little at the bitter taste.  
  
Unable to take it anymore, he shoves a hand down to his own cock, stroking rapidly. “Ray,” he gasps as he comes all over his sheets.  
  
“I wanted to do that,” Ray says, lower lip jutting out practically into a pout. Nate rolls away from the wet spot and stretches out next to him on the bed.  
  
“Next time,” Nate promises.  
  
Ray smiles, seeming to take heart from his promise that this wasn't just a one-time thing. “Now that the Spear of Destiny is safe, it only seems fair that we get a day off.”  
  
“Shower?” Nate feels sticky and he's still painfully aware that he hasn't had a chance to brush his teeth yet. “Then round two?”  
  
“You're on.” Ray tucks his cock back into his boxers and climbs over Nate to get out of bed. “But this time I get to blow you.”


End file.
